I've finally figured out why I despise rap music and it's rather repetative wording. It's demeaning to women. Isn't that rather intellectual? I'm quite proud of my achievement, not that I have anything against those who do approve of rap music. I'm just not inclined to listen to to it.
I'm so proud of myself.
Clap for me!
One Werewolf to Another
Harry woke with a start as the car jerked and chugged up to the front drive of the Burrow. It died with a hissing noise, leaving them a few feet short of their mark. Mr. Weasley stepped out first, inspecting the area cautiously before allowing Harry to climb out. Moody waved his wand at Harry's trunk, and it disappeared with a faint pop.
Mr. Weasley lead them toward the back door, although Harry didn't know why the front wasn't an option. He couldn't see anyone about, and their were lights shining from the windows in the front room. Darkness had fallen sometime during the trip, it seemed. Moody limped toward the back door, lifting his knuckles and rapping loudly on the wood.
"Who is it?" Mrs. Weasley's shrill voice demanded. There was a loud scuffling before a few other muffled voices could be heard.
"It's Allastor and I, dear. We've got Harry," Mr. Weasley replied. There was another muffled sound and then the door swung open, bathing the back door in a glowing yellow light. Mrs. Weasley rushed forward, barreling into Harry and giving him a hug.
"Harry, dear, how have you been?" she asked warmly, inspecting him with a critical face. "You look well enough," she answered for him, smiling once again as she ushered him in the door and to the front room. "The others are waiting in the kitchen," she added softly, shoving him gently. Harry nodded, passing through the room and stopping at the kitchen door. He could hear the faint sound of voices, and he took a deep breath before stepping through.
"Harry!" Hermione's shriek was his only warning before she flung herself at him, squeezing him tightly. Pulling back, she smiled up at him, patting his arm. "It's wonderful to see you! We're so sorry about not being able to visit! With all the-"
"Hermione," Ron admonished, pushing his way across the tables and dining room table to stand next to her. "Don't suffocate the poor man. Oi, mate, how have the Muggles been?" Ron asked, clapping him on the shoulder. Harry grinned, shrugging his shoulders.
"Can't say I miss it. And sorry about your dad's workers and all," Harry added. Ron shook his head, sighing heavily. It was then that Harry noticed another person hanging back. Ginny was standing silently next to a chair, looking solemnly at Harry. "It's nice to see you, Ginny," Harry said, clearing his throat. Ginny nodded, remaining silent.
"Er . . ." Ron said awkwardly, looking quickly to Hermione,who worried her bottom lip. "The wedding is before your birthday," Ron blurted quickly, giving Hermione another helpless look. This succeeded in drawing Harry's attention.
"I thought you said it was after my birthday," Harry commented. Ron's face filled with an odd smugness, and Harry saw Hermione roll her eyes.
"As I tried to tell you, it was still scheduled for before your birthday," Hermione said sarcastically, her voice filled with loathing. Harry frowned, looking to Ron, who grinned.
"Hermione's just mad that Fleur made Ginny-"
"Shut up, Ron," Hermione snapped, quickly cutting off the rest of Ron's sentance. Harry gave the pair an interested look, raising his eyebrows.
"What happened?" he asked. Ron's grin widened, and he glanced slyly at Hermione. Harry, who had a feeling the deathly look on Hermione's face was serious, quickly intervened, shaking his head roughly at Ron. "Nevermind. So the wedding is after my birthday? Where is it going to be held?" he asked curiously, hoping that it calmed Hermione.
She gave Ron a mulish look, but finally turned to Harry, her tone brightening. "In the field out back. Because of the curfew and whatnot, Bill wanted to have it here. He hasn't been too happy, though," she said, lowering her voice a notch. Harry frowned.
"Why not? He's getting married, isn't he?" Harry asked, frown deepening. Ron sighed, shaking his head as Ginny took a few steps toward them.
"Well, he got attacked by that Greyback, who's a werewolf. And when Lupin said he would have some wolfish qualities, well . . ." Ron trailed off, shaking his head once again. Harry felt another knot of anger form in the pit of his stomach as he remembered the werewolf on the astronomy tower. He had talked of biting children, even when the moon wasn't full.
"Oh, Lupin!" Hermione said suddenly, turning to Harry. "He stopped by a few days ago, with Bill and Fleur. He told me to tell you he understands about not being able to visit, and he's looking forward to seeing you at the wedding," Hermione added, smiling brightly. Harry nodded, feeling an immense swelling of relief. It was good to hear that Lupin didn't bear a grudge against him.
"By the way, Harry, do you know if Moody is still here?" Ron asked, peeking over Harry's shoulder at the closed kitchen door. Harry shrugged, shaking his head. Ron looked disappointed. "I think I'll go check. I'll see you in a minute," Ron said, moving past Harry and out the kitchen. Harry frowned, not sure what was going on.
Hermione snorted with laughter, her smile even wider. "What's going on?" Harry asked, raising an eyebrow.
"He failed his Apparation test," Ginny said, her voice full of amusement as she stood next to Harry and Hermione. Harry ignored the flip flop his stomach did as he fought down his laughter. "Probably wants toask Moody if he can retake it," Ginny added.
Harry grinned, feeling suddenly happy that Ginny was speaking to him again. "I suppose we should go check with Ron. Don't you have to take your test, too, Harry?" Hermione asked, leading them out the kitchen. Harry onlynodded, following her through the door, Ginny at his heels.
"Harry, dear, I'd like to talk to you." Harrylooked up, startled. He hadn't realized anyone else was out here. He was currently situated on the floor by the back broomshed, where he and Dumbledore had met but a year ago.
He shifted nervously, making to rise, but Mrs. Weasley shook her head, surprising him and seating herself right next to him, albeit with some difficulty. Harry waited patiently, knowing what she would want to talk about, and trying to find a way to evade it.
"You've been quiet the past week," Mrs. Weasley commented, breaking the comfortable silence between them. Harry nodded, not sure how to answer without promoting discussion of Dumbledore. "You're thinking about Albus?" There was just enough lilt near the end of the sentance to make it seem like a question, but Harry knew it was more of a statement, and he nodded, swallowing hard.
"In a way, Harry, dear, you've taken over some of his responsibilities," she said quietly. Harry frowned, finally looking over at her.
"What do you mean?" he asked, his curiosity piqued. Mrs. Weasley chuckled, shaking her head and giving him an affectionate look. Harry waited for her to answer.
"I'll wager that not a day goes by that You-Know-Who doesn't cross your mind," she said, smiling fondly when his lips tightened and he looked away, swallowing once again. "Albus was the one to do it before. Always thinking of ways to stop him, ways to keep you safe," she added. Harry clenched his jaw.
"And, now, you do the same thing. I know you don't mean it. It's just what you have to do," Mrs. Weasley added, patting him gently on the shoulder. "I know you, Ron, and Hermione aren't children anymore, but that doesn't mean you have to go rushing to grow up. Take some time off, have some fun." Harry scowled, picking at a desperate blade of grass that had shot up through the dirt.
"And then something else will happen. Like Mr. Weasley's friends getting killed. And Bill getting bit by Greyback Or Sirius-" he choked out, shaking his head and blinking to avoid the sting in his eyes. Mrs. Weasley sighed, nodding her head.
"Don't ever think any of that was your fault, Harry. Even Sirius' death," she added firmly, seeing the look on his face. "They all chose their own actions. Sirius chose to go to the Department of Mysteries, Bill chose to go to Hogwarts to defend it, and Arthur's employees chose to follow their line of work. None of it is your fault," she stated.
Harry nodded, resisting the urge to wipe his nose on his sleeve. Mrs. Weasley stood up, using the broom shed for support. She looked across the field the wedding was to be held on, her eyes distant and glazed. "It was wonderful talking to you, Harry," she finally said, smiling warmly at him.
Harry grinned, nodding his head and standing as well. "You, too, Mrs. Weasley," he said,looking toward the door. Hermione and Ginny had come out together, whispering to each other. Mrs. Weasley started toward the door. She turned back, the fond smile still in place.
"Are you coming in?" she asked. Harry nodded, following her up to the door.
"I look like a bloody fool," Ron muttered darkly, tugging restlessly at the collar of his dress robes. Harry fought the urge to laugh, turning his face away and feigning interest in the multitude of presents stacked next to the back door. Mrs. Weasley had decided, with the unpredictable rain, that it was best to leave them inside. Ron gave him an irritated look, scowling even more.
"Oh, come on, Ron. We wore them to the Yule Ball," Harry pointed out reasonably. This, however, did not lighten Ron's spirits, and he glowered at everyone who passed by. Harry, who was still waiting for an appearance by Lupin, ignored his horrible mood. He didn't feel all that confident in his own dress robes anyway.
"There you are." Both turned at the familiar sound of Hermione, who was slipping out of the back door. She wore a pastel pink dress that reached the floor, and her hair was swept up into a light bun on her head. Ron seemed speechless for a moment, his jaw hanging open. Harry nudged him in the ribs with his elbow and Ron snapped to attention, his rather sullen look falling back into place. Hermione gave him a strange look before turning to Harry.
"Dress robes," Harry muttered. Hermione mumbled something incoherent and rolled her eyes. Harry, who was staring wistfully at the back door, felt someone tap him on the shoulder, and he turned, expecting it to be Hermione or Ron. To his utter surprise, however, it was Gabrielle, Fleur's younger sister.
She had a soft colored yellow dress, and her hair was tied up much like Hermione's. He faltered, not sure what to say. She simply smiled, her even, white teeth gleaming. "I wanted to talk to you," she said, her voice soft. Harry nodded dumbly, looking to Ron and Hermione for help. Hermione arched a brow, and Ron smirked, leaving Harry with no option but to follow Gabrielle across the back yard to the table containing the large, multi-layered cake.
"I know this may seem very strange, Harry, but I wanted to thank you," Gabrielle started, her gaze fixed on the cake. Harry's brows drew together, and he stared at her in confusion. He didn't remember doing anything that deemed thanks, except for the Triwizard Tournament, and that had just been a large bit of stupidity on his part. Surely she couldn't mean that? "I know the Triwizard Tournament was a long time ago, but I still want to thank you," she added, smiling shyly at him.
Harry felt a fluttery feeling in his stomach, and he averted his eyes, trying desperately to ignore Ron, who was making love-sick faces behind Hermione's back. "Er," Harry started awkwardly. "I was just being stupid," he blurted, feeling like a complete dolt when she laughed lightly, her hair bouncing on her head.
"No you weren't. Diggory or Krum didn't stay to get the others. I think it was very noble of you," she added, a lilt in her voice. Harry felt that odd sensation in his stomach again, and he tried to squash the swell of gratitude he felt for being called noble. Of course, he didn't mention that his 'noble' act had cost him a lot ofpoints in the Tournament.
"Er, I dunno," he said, scratching the back of his head. Gabrielle opened her mouth to say something else, but a familiar voice cut her off.
"May I interrupt?" Harry turned around, a grin on his face. Remus Lupin was standing behind him, a rather amused smile on his face and a brow quirked.
"Professor!" Harry said brightly. Lupin smiled, although the action looked as if it caused immense pain. "Oh," Harry added hastily, turning back to Gabrielle. "Er, excuse me," he said, trying to keep the heated flush in his cheeks down when she smiled brightly and nodded, moving off to find her sister.
"A friend of yours?" Lupin asked quietly. Harry could hear the amusement in his voice.
"Er, I saved her . . . During the Triwizard tournament. Well, not saved her-"
"I understand," Lupin said, coughing lightly into his hand and giving Harry a bemused look. Harry chose to ignore his rather obvious show of sarcasm.
"So, how was St. Mungo's? Are you completely recovered?" Harry asked with concern, worry lining his brow. Lupin waved a hand dismissively, shaking his head and sighing.
"I'm as good as ever," he added, his voice sounding tired and weary. Harry gave him a skeptical look.
"You don't sound too well," he said dubiously. Lupin only sighed, motioning towards Mr. Weasley, who had raised himself on a rather wobbly stool. He swayed for a moment, and Harry could tell he was rather intoxicated. A goblet was clutched tightly in his hand, and he swayed once more before opening his mouth and letting out a rather impressive belch.
"'Scuse me, Molly, ladies," Mr. Weasley said, his voice heavy and slurred as he looked down at his wife, blinking a few times to clarify that it was, indeed, her. "Now, on to the 'portant stuff!" he added, raising the goblet to his lips and taking a hearty gulp.A few drops snaked their way down his chin and fell to his crisp dress robes, unnoticed by Mr. Weasley.
"I want to give a toast to my son, George, I mean . . . Bill! Yes, Bill is the one getting married! And I want to give a toast to him and his new wife . . ." His face took on a look of mingled concentration and frustration, and he leaned down, nearly toppling forward as he whispered loudly in his wife's ear. "What's her name, Molly, dear?"
Mrs. Weasley, looking highly mortified, flushed even darker than Harry had ever seen, and she tried to hideher mouth behind her hand as she said Fleur's name loudly. Mr. Weasley nodded, the smile forming on his face once again as he stood and raised the goblet to those gathered around the table once more.
"Yes, a toast to . . . Bill! And Fleur?" It came out as a question more than a statement, and he once again looked to Mrs. Weasley, who nodded jerkily once before hiding her face behind her hands. Finally, however, someone decided to take mercy on the rather drunken Mr. Weasley.
"Arthur, if I may?" Lupin asked, striding forward and pouring a meager amount of the alcoholic beverage into his goblet. Mr. Weasley looked confused for a moment, but he nodded his head, tripping to the floor. A rather exasperated Moody helped him up and dragged him to one of the chairs gathered around the table, depositing him none too gently.
Mrs. Weasley thoroughly scolded her husband as Remus Lupin took the floor. He gazed at Bill, his brows furrowed. "Bill," he started, blinking a few times in his perusal. "I realize that the recent changes you've undergone may be harsh and startling to deal with," he said, ignoring the rather snide snort Bill produced. "However, don't forget the rest who deal with the same thing. I was bitten at an early age, and I understand exactly what you have to go through. Though your face may be changed," Lupin added, indicating the scar running across Bill's cheek and the rather pointy canines that resulted from Fenrir Greyback's attack, "You are still the same man at heart, and it helps to remember that."
There was a pause and something in Bill's face shifted. It lost it's rather harsh countenace, and his eyes softened somewhat as he waited silently for Lupin to continue, unmoving and still. "So, Bill, in my toast, I give you this: From one werewolf to another, I wish you the best of luck with your marriage, and may you give Molly and Arthur wonderful grandchildren," Lupin finished, taking a small sip from his goblet.
Intense silence followed his toast, until Bill slowly stood up, clearing his throat loudly. "I want to apologize to everyone. I realize that I must have been a terrible sport these past few weeks, and I just want to say I'm sorry." Mrs. Weasley burst into tears and attempted to grab her son in a rather strangling hold from across the table while Mr. Weasley leaned forward in his chair, peering intently at Bill, as if seeing him for the first time.
"Now on with the wedding!" Mr. Weasley exclaimed, tossing his goblet. The liquid splashed over the sides, soaking a considerable amount of the tablecloth, and Mrs. Weasley hurried to dry the area. She disappeared not long after, dragging Fleur and Ginny along with her.
Harry looked to Hermione, who was seated to his right, Lupin on his left. Ron, who sat on the other side of Lupin, shot Hermione a victorious look. "Hermione, shouldn't you be going, too?" Harry asked, indicating Gabrielle, who had followed her sister. Hermione's lips tightened considerably, and her back stiffened. Ron snorted from the other side of Lupin.
"Fleur decided that Ginny would make a better bridesmaid, because she had the build and the hair. No offense to Hermione, of course, but Fleur also said that-"
"Shut. Up." Hermione's voice was clipped and tight, her spine rigid. Harry decided not to push it, and they lapsed into silence. Harry occasionally inquired about Lupin's situation, but he remained rather closemouthed, and refused to give him direct answers due to discrepency.
After a few more minutes of comfortable silence, Mrs. Weasley reammerged, followed closely by Ginny and Gabrielle. A polished man with a head of graying blond hair and sparkling eyes took Fleur, who stood a few inches taller, by the arm and smiled.
Mr. Weasley, who was still gently swaying, lead Bill to the alter. He whispered something to Bill, or at least it was supposed to be a whisper, and Mrs. Weasley's face colored, her hands flying to her mouth. "Arthur!" she admonished, swatting at his arm. Bill managed to keep a straight face.
After they were officially announced husband and wife, Bill took Fleur by the hand and led her up a small set of wooden steps to the staged dance floor. Mrs. Weasley dragged her husband up after them, wincing occasionally when Mr. Weasley would trod on her feet. Mr. Weasley would then bellow an apology, causing Fleur's mother and father to give him reproving looks.
Hermione had sulked in a far chair from the stage, her arms crossed over her chest as she cast a death glare on the tablecloth. Harry took a seat next to her, content to sit in silence. Hermione, however, surprised him with her rather abrupt sentance.
"Harry," she said, her voice slightly shaky. Harry frowned, not sure he would like where her question would lead. "Am I ugly?" she asked, her eyes locked with his. Harry's own eyes widened with shock and slight anger.
"Is that what Fleur told you?" he asked, shifting in his seat to face her. Hermione shook her head, wiping delicately at her eyes before shaking her head once again.
"No," she replied, sniffling. "It's just that, well, she picked Ginny over me, and I just thought-"
"You're not ugly, Hermione," Harry said firmly, cutting her off. She nodded once, sniffling even louder. Harry, afraid she would burst into tears, patted her arm awkwardly.
"Thank you, Harry," she said, giving his hand a gentle squeeze. Harry nodded, patting her arm again. They sat in silence for the rest of the reception, until Ron wondered over to them, his eyes fixed on Hermione.
"Oi, what are you two doing so far away from everyone?" he asked, creating a chair for himself with a flick of his wand. It turned out to be a rather wobbly, unstable stool however, and he gave them a sheepish look, opting for a regular chair instead. "Still don't have the hang of it," he muttered.
"Nothing," Hermione snapped. Ron looked taken aback at her hostile tone, and he looked helplessly at Harry, who gave him a warning look. Ron let the matter drop, thankfully, and they spent the rest of the time in silence until Mrs. Weasley called that it was time for bed.
It was past midnight, and neither of them, Ron included, protested. They trudged up the stairs, Harry muttering a sleepy goodbye to Hermione and Ginny at their room before taking the stairs slowly to Ron's attic getaway. Pulling his clothes off and putting on a pair of pajamas, he sank into his camp bed.
"G'Night, Ron," he said, in between a yawn. Ron snorted, already asleep on his own bed. Harry yawned again. He hadn't realized how tired he was until now. He rolled over on his bed, trying to ignore the slightly uncomfortable lumps before drifting off to sleep.
I've decided that I need a beta. So, if you're interested, and have the preffered experience of good grammer and spelling tactics, please get in touch with me. I really will appreciate the effort.